The Persistence of Loss
by Anaveya
Summary: Desperate for air, I reached for your ghost and found my hands empty. Empty and isolated. All those around me, oblivious to the betrayal of our love. Oblivious to my still beating heart taunting me in your grasp while you fled far, far away. I cried for you and it fell on deaf ears. And I awoke, alone and afraid of a world without you.
1. Chapter One

**The Persistence of Loss – Part One: Back to the beginning.**

_She giggled when he scooped her up into his arms and started to run. She slipped her short, plump arms around his neck and held on just like he'd told her to, and to her it was all just a game at first, and he ran so fast that the wind bit cold into her cheeks, whipping her hair around, and at some point she stopped giggling and nestled her face into his neck where it was warm and closed her eyes until they had stopped. _

_Tucked up in his lap in the middle of the meadow, her face pressed close to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her, the thing that the little girl remembered the most was the smell of her brothers' shirt, a smell that she would not recognize or be able to define until many years later, of perspiration mixed with the odor of smoke and burning wood. That, and the grass in the meadow tickled her face. Her heart was beating faster than it ever had before and she began to cry._

Ana sat bolt upright, waking suddenly, her forehead beaded in sweat and looked around the darkened room, slightly disoriented for a few moments. She was stiff and sore, and she stretched, cringing as she realized that she had fallen asleep on the small two seated sofa in the living room of their small stone house, and at best the furniture was only just barely tolerable enough to sit on, let alone sleep on, so she knew she'd pay for that by way of a stiff back for at least a day or two. She found a candle to light, and set it on the small table on the other side of the room, shivering as a cold gust of wind blew through the open window. Valgoren knew better than to leave anything open at night, and she wrinkled her nose and shook her head in annoyance as she closed the shutter. She was also more than a little miffed that he hadn't at least covered her up where she slept. It wasn't summer after all, and these nights in the desert, despite the mostly tropical climate, could get bitter at this time of year. The cold winds were and could be harsh and unforgiving.

She wondered, as she picked up the candle from the table and moved across the room and down the hallway to her brothers' room to check on him, if everything was okay, or in fact what time he had gotten in and in what sort of a state even as to forget something as simple and in fact as important as closing a window. Though they weren't technically in hiding anymore, one could never be too careful; he had said so on so many occasions that almost every time he did speak those words now, she would roll her eyes and say, "How could I _possibly_ forget with you reminding me 5 times a day?"

She pushed the door of his room open with her free hand, slowly. It creaked, it always had done so since the day they'd moved into the house no matter how many times it were oiled, so if he was soundly asleep, she didn't want to wake him on account of that. She simply wanted to make sure he was there, he was home and that he was safe, as always. Ana knew, before she even moved into the room, just standing in the doorway that her brother was not there, and that when she did in fact move out of the doorway and towards his bed that it would be empty. It was that instinctual feeling that one got at certain moments in time where you simply didn't need to see or to hear something to know that it was so, it just was.

An involuntary shiver ran up her spine and she stood there for long agonizing moments, afraid almost to see it with her own eyes. It wouldn't have been the first time that he was late coming home, or that he hadn't come home at all, but it was the first time that she had ever been filled with such a sense of dread because of it. In her bones, she sensed that something was terribly wrong, and if asked about it at some point long, long afterwards, she still wouldn't have been able to articulate how she knew. She just did. And padding across the stone floor in her bare feet, her eyes dropped to the bed and found it untouched and exactly as she had made it after he had left for work that morning. He'd not been back.

_He's not coming back._

She shook her head, swiftly, as if the words and the voice that she heard inside her head were actually real. She'd prove her subconscious wrong. She'd just go and find him, right now. Passed out in some bar somewhere or on the ship he'd been working on for the past few weeks. And she'd bring him home, and everything would be just fine. As it always had been, since it had been just the two of them. As it had been. Just fine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two: An eye for an eye.**

The sense of urgency Ana felt once she actually left the house was so immense that within seconds she was running, a full speed run that didn't falter until she reached the docks. She'd planned on stopping at the one inn that her brother did spend the most time in after hours, but even it had been closed, and this only made her run faster.

She came to a stop at enough of a distance to rest for a moment behind one of the palms bordering the shore line, bent over, hands on her knees gasping for breath for several minutes, recovering from the sprint. She was thankful that night that the moon was so bright, because without it it was dark down here, and usually she might have only been able to see the ship's outline at the very most, vague and looming, but tonight it was well illuminated. It looked quiet enough and she moved forwards, the slipper shoes she wore on her feet filling with soft sand, but she paid that no mind and kept on. She moved along the pier quickly and quietly and saw not another soul.

Stepping onto the deck of the ship itself, Ana startled when the board underfoot creaked loudly and she let out a small cry of fright, and in an instant she was afraid. Not that there was any immediate reason to be scared of anything, but it was a similar feeling that she'd felt back at the house, something that she just knew to be true and the sense of unease and wrongness about this place, at this moment filled her every sense and it was at that moment that she smelt it. She smelt that sharp, coppery odor at the very same time her next step caused her to lose her footing, slipping, her feet flying out from underneath her, and she flailed for a moment, and despite where she was and the reason she was there, she still had enough time to think for even a fleeting moment that had somebody been watching, they'd have split their sides laughing at how comical it must have all looked, and then she hit the deck. She rubbed at the hip she'd landed on, wincing, and shifted to get up, putting a hand out to use to push herself up and it, too, slipped, and the smell was overwhelming then. She knew, before she even lifted the hand in front of her face, what she'd slipped on, suddenly. And looking around at the deck she sat on, she realized that she was sitting in ...

_So much blood, oh Gods, it's everywhere._

And she managed to get herself on her feet then, at the same time that she heard the shouting of men's voices from somewhere below her feet and only seconds later the sound of loud footsteps crashing up towards the deck from below and she looked around frantically for somewhere to hide before she was seen. She slipped behind a large container the moment the men came into sight, standing where she had been just seconds earlier, two of them, and they were dragging …

_Val..._

She opened her mouth to cry out to her brother, but she couldn't, she wouldn't. She'd might as well say goodbye to her own life if she were to do that. What could she possibly do against two large men? She was only a girl, after all. She didn't know where the blood had come from, but one look at Valgoren's face from her hiding spot told her that he'd been hurt a lot already. Maybe somebody else had felt the end of their blades before he had. Maybe …

_Stop, Ana. Focus. _

And she did, though the conversation was short, and hard to hear. While she listened, she took in every visible detail that she was able to of those men. What they were wearing, the sounds of their voices, what they looked like. She vowed that no matter what was about to happen here that she'd not forget. That this was not the end.

"'Goren, why'd you do it, man? Ya gotta understand, I don't -want- to do this. _We _don't want to do this. But you killed our brother."

"He killed my family, "Valgoren growled with as much venom as he could manage, but he was weak, and sounded almost defeated already, and that made Ana cringe. She wanted so badly to fly out from her place behind the container and throw herself between him, her only family, and these men but a sense of self preservation kept her where she was, and all she could do was just listen and watch, and wait.

The larger man spoke then, at the same time drawing a shortsword and placing it against her brother's throat,

"An eye for an eye."

And with one swift movement, it was over, and the sound that Ana would remember until her last living day would be the resounding thud of her brothers' lifeless body hitting this deck.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three: Vengeance**

It had taken Anaveya just four short months to formulate a plan that was as close as it could be to perfect in which she would carry out her revenge on those men who had murdered her brother. And no, not just her brother, but her family too. Her mother and her father. Val had never been terribly forthcoming with the details on exactly what had happened to their family, claiming both that he didn't know enough himself or that she was too young, and he would tell her when she was old enough to hear it. He had lied, at least about the former. She'd managed to piece it all together following his death through a combination of things. Vague stories he'd told her, personal journals and family records.

It had all suddenly pieced itself together in her mind at once as if she had been putting together a jigsaw puzzle. The recurring dream she'd had for many years almost nightly made sense even.

"_Come on Ana, we're going to go for a little run!" And he'd scooped her up and run faster than he ever had before and she'd giggled, like it was all just a game._

Looking at her freshly dyed black hair in the mirror, she closed her eyes for a moment and remembered. The way he smelled, the stench of sweat and smoke and the overwhelming fear and confusion that had overcome her, for even at such a young age, no matter how he'd tried to shield her all from it, she knew now. Those three men had come into the house while she obliviously sat on her bedroom floor playing with her dolls and cut first her mothers throat, and then her fathers, and then they'd set the house on fire.

And she'd been ignorant to all of it until that dreadful night four months earlier when she'd watched her brother murdered brutally on the deck of that merchant ship.

"'_Goren, why'd you do it, man? You killed our brother."_

"_He killed my family."_

"_An eye for an eye."_

She carried all of this fresh information with her now, and used it to fuel her plans for revenge. She could have just walked away from it all and made a new life, or tried to make a new life for herself somewhere. After all, tragic and terrible things happened and had happened to others, she wasn't unique in that way, but something inside her just couldn't do that. They had taken her _entire_ family. All of them. She was the last surviving Blackcrest, and they would pay for it, even if she died trying in the process.

What surprised her, even though it shouldn't have perhaps, was that the remaining two men remained in the Tanaris area after they'd murdered Valgoren Blackcrest, regularly travelling in and out on business, and she watched the both of them for two months solid, barely even eating or sleeping. It had become an obsession. As misfortune would have it, a month before she'd been set to carry out her plan to end the first of them, he'd disappeared. Well, not disappeared technically, he'd merely left the port as he usually did and had not returned. Still, one remained and she couldn't let him disappear as well. She'd move her plans forward a little to ensure that didn't happen.

She dressed herself carefully that night to look as inconspicuous as possible. When she walked into the inn, she wasn't looked at as out of place, or out of the ordinary. She merely looked like just another cheap whore that frequented the place, and because of this, gaining access to the rented inn rooms was effortless.

The candle on the nightstand flickered so violently that it threatened to blow out completely. The wind was rising outside. There was a storm coming, and it wouldn't be long before the residents would be stuck inside for a matter of hours or even days. Desert storms were nothing to laugh about. The environment was unpredictable.

The overweight, snoring man woke easily enough when she moved close to him and murmured in his ear, "Wake up sleepyhead."

His initial surprise was replaced with excitement and anticipation when she explained that "A friend of yours has sent me. Their currency was generous." Stupid fool even lay there and let her bind his wrists to the bedhead, thinking he was in for some fun. Before she had drawn the dagger across his throat, she had paused long enough to request that he study her face for just long enough to acquire the recognition that she desired. The last look on his face of disbelief she would now take with her to her own grave, and it was almost enough. Almost.

She found a pendant inside of the drawer of the bedside table and retrieved it, curling her fingers around it tightly. She turned to face the man, struggling for his last few breaths before she turned on her heel to leave as swiftly as she had come. "The only thing I regret about killing you now, is that I had not the leisure to make it last longer."

And then one remained. She wasn't sure what she'd do after the last man met his end eventually, when she tracked him down; she'd honestly not thought that far ahead, but for now, it would at least give her a reason for continuing on, a purpose, and for now, it would just have to suffice.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four: The Visitor**

The window shutter slamming open and closed in the sudden wind was what woke her up. Disoriented and in between sleeping and being fully awake, Ana rolled over and brushed her hair off her face, curling up into a ball, and pulling the covers up over herself, having kicked them off in her sleep. It had been unbearably humid when she'd gotten into bed for the night, but it wasn't unusual for the temperature to take a swift decline during the smaller hours, at all. After living in the desert for so many years already, it was something she was accustomed to, at any rate.

As she started to drift off again, the shutter slammed shut again and she startled awake properly this time. Groaning, she pushed the covers aside, swinging her legs over the side of the bed, her bare feet touching the cool stone floor. She frowned as she crossed the moonlit room in the dark to go and close it. _The wind out there must be bad,_ she thought to herself, _I could have sworn I closed that properly._

"_I'm serious, Ana! You've got to start being more security conscious. How many times have I told you?"_

_She rolled her eyes at him and giggled._

"_I said I was sorry didn't I? Jeez, chill out DAD."_

_His eyebrows furrowed and he gave her 'the look' then and she threw her hands up in mock surrender._

"_Alright, alright. Sorry, I'll try not to forget again."_

"_It's for your safety, Ana, that's all. Yours and mine."_

_She nodded and crossed the short distance between them to slip her arms around his waist, resting her head on his chest for a moment. Maybe she'd surprised him with the action because he didn't return the embrace right away, but moments later he did, wrapping his arms around her small frame in a tight bear hug. When he pulled away, he stepped back and looked down at her, a look on his face of both amusement and affection._

"_What was that for, then?"_

_She shrugged._

"_I love you, stupid. Isn't a girl allowed to give her big brother a hug, sometimes?"_

She had to pull the shutter inwards with more effort than she'd thought, fighting against the wind which sought to whip it outwards and open again, and it slammed shut with such force it was almost a wonder it didn't crack in two, so she fastened the latches quickly, and turned to go back to bed again. She froze in terror, her eyes wide and she choked back a startled scream when the figure standing in front of her pushed the hood back to reveal it's face.

She shook her head from side to side, and started to back away, but two steps backwards and her back was against the wall. She squeezed her eyes closed and started to talk to herself, uttering the words out loud.

"It's just a dream, it's just a dream, it's just a ..."

"Look at me, little Ana."

And although it sounded like his voice, there was something simply _wrong_ about it; there was an undertone, an unnatural grating quality to her that made her feel cold and fearful. She wanted to scream, and shout at it to go away. She didn't want to open her eyes, but then it was just there, touching her, a cold hand underneath her chin and the feeling of it's cold fingers on her face made her skin crawl, but it forced her to open her eyes and she dared not believe that this was happening, that he was in any way, shape or form real. If she believed that, then she would know she'd almost certainly lost her mind, but she opened her mouth and spoke to it, to _him, _and her mouth and throat were so dry they barely came out as more than a whisper.

"You're … you're dead. You're not here. You're dead and buried."

It cocked it's head to one side and grinned at her, a grin she'd seen dozens of times, one that could only belong to him, but the gesture itself made by this, this ... _thing _made her feel sick, and for a moment her head started to spin and she thought she might actually vomit, but all she could do was stand there, backed into a wall, with her hand over her mouth, staring dumbly at this twisted visage of the late Valgoren Blackcrest as it laughed and whether it was the vision or the sound itself, or a combination of both, she felt the room spin for just a few short seconds before everything went black and she lost consciousness.


End file.
